Spring Rain

by Lizzy Ford

  “Probably. I’ll call Beck to heal you,” she offered and held her breath.

  “Why am I even thinking about trying it?” He paced a short distance away. “How confident are you this might work?”

  She shrugged. “I can’t think of any other alternative that will save your sister and her baby. Darkness makes her weak to Bartholomew. If it’s gone, then –”

  “- we might have a chance to save her.”

  Morgan nodded. When he was quiet, she added, “And you get your chance with Biji.”

  “You’ve been thinking about this a lot.”

  She waited, hopeful he’d give it a go yet also a little queasy at the prospect of burning someone the way she intended to do him.

  “I’ll do it,” he said finally. “God help me, Morgan, this better be worth me being barbequed.”

  When it had been an idea, it didn’t seem so bad. The way he looked at her, though, with a combination of fear and hope, left her wondering if this was the worst thing she could ever do. Would it damn her to Darkness after she burned him to death? Could she control her magick enough not to kill him?

  Could she live with herself if she failed and crippled him in the process?

  I have to try. Despair filled her at the thought of never finding her path to Beck. Decker thought there was something she should be doing, and this was all she could think of that might help Beck in some way, if it worked.

  “We better do it now, before either of us loses our nerve,” Noah said and went to his motorcycle. He slung his leg over and held out the helmet to her.

  She climbed on back while he started it.

  They tore out of the gravel driveway and away from town, toward the lake where they’d attempted to fake her death months ago.

  Noah drove her to the perfect place: an old dock. A cracking cement slab extended from the bank into the lake about twenty feet. He parked on the grass near the old dock and strode out onto the cement.

  “Will this work?” he asked as he walked.

  “Yeah.” She looked around for anything flammable within the near vicinity. There were no other wooden docks or boats for a quarter of a mile, and the trees and grass were far enough not to be ignited by sparks.

  Her muscles grew jittery, her fire thrilled about the challenge and prospect of being completely unleashed. She tested her magick’s responsiveness as they chose a spot to set him afire. It was hard to focus, even when it was eager to help. She had always struggled to channel her fire exactly where she wanted it to go. Beck’s ability to calm it had helped, but he wasn’t there.

  Satisfied her magick was as ready as it could be, Morgan looked Noah up and down.

  “Um, no offense, but … your clothes might melt to your skin.”

  Noah drew a deep breath and stripped down to his boxers. “Want me to lay down or something?”

  Embarrassed to be around a guy who was mostly naked, she could only nod. Morgan tried hard not to look at his body and instead dropped to her knees at his side and sat back on her heels. Her right thigh pressed to his side, and she gazed down at him nervously. Noah was breathing quickly, his water magick restrained yet bubbling every once in awhile, as if it knew what was about to happen.

  What if I kill him? She paused. Noah didn’t deserve to die and she had no idea how she’d live with killing him. With trembling hands, she set her phone out next to the soul stone on the cement slab, far enough away that the fire wouldn’t affect it. She’d pre-typed up a note for Beck to come get her and that he might need to heal someone. All she had to do when the time came was tap send.

  “Okay, maybe you should let your water magick free a little,” she said. “I want to try to target the fire to your Darkness, so you can maybe … I don’t know. Tell your water to go everywhere else?”

  He nodded and closed his eyes. His cool magick filled the air around him, and she placed quivering hands on his warm chest. Immediately, his water magick pushed at her, and she sensed his fear conveyed across their physical connection. She steadied her magick.

  “Ready?” she whispered, terrified of what was about to happen.

  “No. But do it. Burn that shit out of me.”

  Morgan withdrew one hand and lifted it, summoning her fire magick. Her hand glowed orange, red, yellow, greenish, blue and finally burst into purple tipped with white. The brilliance of her flames caused her to close her eyes, and she tested the fire’s intention of obeying her before she unleashed it.

  It was eager – and wild.

  Noah’s breathing was even faster, shallower. “Do it, Morgan,” he ordered.

  “I’ll stop if you want me to,” she told him.

  He said nothing.

  Morgan lowered the hand to his chest, and his body went rigid. She opened her eyes and pressed him back to the ground. A strangled cry left him, and he began to burn.

  Take me to the Darkness, she directed her fire. It raced through him, igniting his skin in purple flames that leapt towards the sky, while her magick ferreted out the Darkness in his soul. Rather than be located in one place like she expected, it was spread throughout him, intertwining with his magick and clinging to his spirit.

  His body jerked and writhed, and the scent of burning flesh and hair filled the air. It sickened her and motivated her as well to burn hotter, faster, and end it sooner.

  To her surprise, he didn’t scream, though she felt the water magick rise to fight the invasion. She was soon drenched from a combination of the light drizzle and his magick pushing back, but she leaned over him, pushing her flames to burn so purple they were nearly black.

  She guided her fire with her mind, racing after the snakelike tendrils of Darkness that were fused to his core. Fused, yet vulnerable to fire as hot as hers. She envisioned the white tips traveling down the purple until her fire was nothing except white light. The flames refused to obey, and she cursed her inability to control the magick.

  Noah went limp, his form boiling and his magick vanquished without his consciousness to control it.

  Concerned, Morgan forced more energy into him to speed up the process as much as possible. The purple flames turned black, scaring her. They became tipped with rainbow colors as they chased and twisted after the Darkness that was trying not to be burned with the rest of Noah.

  Finally, the flames exploded into pure white that blinded her.

  The water witchling was growing charred on the outside, raw on the inside as she chased down the last tendrils of Darkness.

  When it was gone, she released the magick and leaned back with a gasp, panting and dizzy from the amount of effort it took. The white fire blazed into the sky and zipped back towards the school, fading from her sight.

  Noah’s body glowed with mini-white flames. He was alive – barely – and the sight of his burnt, unrecognizable features made her panic. She snatched her cell and hit the send button on the text, knowing Beck was going to freak out as much as she was when he read it.

  Morgan touched Noah’s melted skin, releasing a flare of fire magick into him.

  His water was present, along with the faintest signs of life.

  The Dark, however, was gone.

  “Elsa,” she murmured. A flare of happiness leapt into her, along with horror as her adrenaline began to fade and she took in Noah’s fire-ravished form. Hysterics spread through her as she realized what exactly she had done. Had she saved him? Or just tortured him to death?

  She began to cry, to laugh, to sob, and bent over, holding her stomach.

  “What the …” Beck’s voice reached her before she registered the warmth of his magick and the coolness of the fog. “Morgan, what did you do?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The beautiful fire witchling couldn’t respond. She wept and giggled, shaking hard enough he assumed she’d either been injured or had fallen completely into madness.

  But it was the body before her that held his attention. The scent nauseated him, and all he could determine from the frame of the person on the ground w
as that it probably belonged to a male by its height. His features were gone, melted like a doll left on a stove.

  He knelt and placed a hand on the body, immediately summoning his healing powers. “Morgan, what have you done?” he whispered again. Everything he had learned thus far about Morgan needing to turn Light to help him and the Light beat against his thoughts harder than his heart did his chest. Beck wasn’t able to move, frozen by the idea he was witnessing the act that not only condemned her, but the Light as well.

  And for what? Why? What the hell had she done? Didn’t she understand the importance of trying to become Light, so they could be together if nothing else?

  Or … had something happened? Had she acted out of self-defense?

  Please let it be self defense.

  “Heal … him …” she gasped out.

  His concern for her took a backseat to his duty, and he focused on channeling his earth magick and Light into the man.

  What remained of the man’s skin was stuck to his hands, and Beck resisted the urge to bend over and vomit everything he’d eaten in the past ten years. He glanced at Morgan, who was struggling to compose herself, beginning to wonder if he had been wrong about her all along, that the goodness he saw in her was his own hope and didn’t really exist. He had made that mistake with Dawn.

  No. Not my Morgan. The doubt fled despite the evidence before him. Whatever happened, there was an explanation, and it was one that would exonerate Morgan.

  He was healing faster than ever before, but he still feared losing the life depending on him. He had faced down the Dark Witchlings while standing on the Light source. Was his magic stronger there?

  Morgan was starting to cry.

  “It’s okay, Morgan. I promise. I’m a little … worried,” he whispered. “He might heal faster if I’m at the Light source. I’m going to take him there and I’ll be back for you. Okay?”

  She didn’t respond.

  Beck touched the man before him once more and ordered his fog to sweep them away.

  Seconds later, it cleared, and they were back at the school, him and the mushy, charred remains of whomever Morgan had burnt to a crisp. He trusted the magick to take him where he wanted, and they’d been dropped off in the Square, the courtyard area surrounded on three sides by school buildings where the witchlings often had class, picnics and bonfires.

  Beck summoned Light and earth magick instinctively and bottled it until he was burning up from the inside before thrusting it into the form beneath his hands. He closed his eyes and breathed through his mouth, wanting to purge his nose of the smell that left him gagging. The earth rumbled beneath them, its low whisper turning to a thunderous groan. Beck didn’t stop the body from pulling at his magick, instead making every ounce of himself and his Light available to it.

  He watched in his mind as muscles repaired themselves and skin grew and stretched over the man. He didn’t care who it was at the moment; he only wanted to prevent Morgan from becoming a murderer, from being sentenced to the Dark or worse, to discover Decker was coming to kill her.

  Sweat dripped down his face, and he drew off more magick than he ever had before. At last, Beck sat back on his heels, breathing hard and terrified it wasn’t enough to save Morgan let alone the man before him.

  The naked form before him was mostly repaired. There was scarring in places, some of which was disappearing as his magick continued working on him while others appeared to be permanent. All the hair was gone from his body along with one toe. With some disappointment, Beck realized neither was something he could fix.

  “Noah,” Beck breathed, surprised. Of all the people Morgan might enflame, Noah wasn’t on the list. Unless something happened. He checked Noah’s vitals and pulled off his sweater to cover his naked groin. “Hey.” He nudged the water witchling. “Wake up, Noah.”

  The boy took a wheezing breath and opened lashless-eyes. He stared at the night sky before lifting his healed arms to stare at them in disbelief.

  “You did it,” he said in a rough voice.

  “Kept you alive?” Beck sat back, relieved and irritated, wanting to face Morgan but almost afraid to discover she had gone Dark.

  “Where am I?”

  “The school.” Beck wiped his face, his tension replaced by exhaustion as he realized Noah was going to live. He motioned to the schoolhouse a few feet away.

  “What?” Noah sat up.

  “School.” Beck repeated. “What the hell is going on?”

  Noah looked around as if he’d never been there before.

  “Please don’t tell me I scrambled your brain,” Beck muttered. “Noah! What happened? Why did Morgan burn you to a crisp? Did you do something to her?”

  Noah reached up to feel his face and rubbed his bald head. To Beck’s surprise, Noah laughed.

  “Don’t you get it, Beck?” Noah twisted to face him with a smile.

  “Absolutely not. I have no clue what’s going on, unless she fried your brain or that’s where your other toe ended up.”

  “I’m a Dark witchling and I’m on campus.”

  Beck’s breath caught. Had he inadvertently broken the shield by bringing Noah here? He pressed his hands to the ground and frantically sought an answer from the Light source.

  It sent him an image of the barriers being up. Puzzled, he asked again.

  “It’s not possible,” he said. “What is going on?”

  “What’s going on is I need pants.” Noah was staring at the sweater covering his groin. “Pants and I swear I’ll tell you everything.”

  Beck had the sinking feeling he either hadn’t woken up yet or the entire world had turned surreal. He resisted the urge to slam Noah into the ground the way he might Decker and demand answers. The kid had gone through enough, and by the glow in his eyes, he had something to say Beck wanted to hear.

  Beck trotted to the dorm room he used to share with Decker on campus and retrieved clothing for Noah. Returning, he tossed it to him and laced his arms across his test. “Talk, Noah.”

  “Morgan called me with this crazy plan.” Noah replied, his words muffled as he pulled on a t-shirt. “She said her ancestor once burned the Dark out of a man to turn him Light.” He stood and paused to pull on sweats.

  “Did what now?” Beck asked, frowning. “I’ve never heard of that.”

  “Me neither. Who knows for sure. Anyway, she wanted to know if I’d be game as her … test subject.”

  Beck’s mouth dropped open.

  “It was for a good cause,” Noah rushed on. “To save Dawn’s life and her baby’s. We thought if she wasn’t Dark then Bartholomew couldn’t keep his hold on her. Of course I said yes. And …” He drifted off. “And other reasons. But that was the main one. All I had to do was agree to let her set me on fire.”

  “Do you have any idea how insane that sounds?” Beck almost yelled. In all his years, he’d been on the receiving end of such a question, but never met anyone crazy enough that he thought he’d be asking it. “You let her set you on fire? You let her risk going Dark and your own life for something as ape shit crazy as this?”

  Noah reddened and then smiled. “Beck, I’m standing on campus.”

  “I don’t give a shit where you’re standing, Noah!” Beck snapped, the Master side of him as riled up as the side that loved Morgan. “You have no idea … whatever the hell she’s doing, I’ve got to stop it!” He whirled, incensed with the urge to save Morgan from herself.

  “Beck!” Noah snatched his arm.

  Beck yanked away, and Noah wobbled. Realizing how weak Noah was after his ordeal, Beck steadied him, reigning in the side of him that was sobbing internally over losing Morgan to the Darkness.

  “I’m. On. Campus.”

  Beck stared at Noah, his meaning finally clicking. No Dark witchling could be on campus which meant … “No. It’s not possible.”

  “Look. Into me.” Noah took his wrist and placed his hand on his head. “However it is you check people for Light or Dark.”

  Beck
didn’t need to release his magick into Noah. He stilled his emotions the best he could so he could get a read on Noah. The Master side of him could track Light witchlings and right now, Noah was reading as Light. “It’s not possible,” he repeated, his concern deepening. “It’s … Noah … this can’t … my god. I need to talk to someone. Stay on campus. You can take my room. In fact, don’t go anywhere in case you end up exploding or something.” He hurriedly handed Noah his keys and pointed towards his room before spinning away and sprinting towards the forest.

  Trees cleared a path for him. He ran blindly, unable to comprehend that Morgan had torched someone for the purpose of turning him from Dark to Light – and that she had succeeded. Sam had told him she could purify Darkness, but like this? What possessed her to try it knowing how delicate her situation was teetering on the edge of the Dark?

  “Sam, I really need you!” Needing to let off steam, Beck ran until he was breathless and his legs were heavy. He stopped then, not caring where he was. Sam was capable of finding him anywhere, and his magick could transport him to whatever his next destination was. One of the trees nudged him, and he pushed back gently, in no mood to play or talk to its whispering spirit. “Not now,” he whispered to it. “Sam!” he cried and threw his head back to the rainy sky.

  Several moments later, he heard the sound of wet branches scraping tree roots and rocks and turned to face the wet forest yeti. It is rainy and cold, Sam complained with a chortle. What disturbs you, young Master?

  “Morgan.” Beck’s mind was racing too hard for him to form the words. He took a moment to nail down his thoughts. “She turned a Dark witchling Light by frying him nearly to death. Tell me … tell me she didn’t do this at the cost of her own soul!”

  This is what concerns you most? Her soul? Not the feat she performed that has not been performed since Tranin? Sam was amused. He perched on a tree stump.

  Earth warmth calmed him, and Beck wiped the rain off his face. “I can’t begin to think it’s possible.”

  It is not impossible.

  “Meaning …”

  Meaning no Master or Mistress of Light has had a Fire witchling counterbalance in five hundred years and before that, it was over a thousand. She is rare, and so is her power.